


Stolen Heart

by seasalticecream32



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Hooper, Other, Pirate Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 16:57:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5792536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasalticecream32/pseuds/seasalticecream32
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Soulmates AU + Sherlolly; Your kiss broke a Siren's spell.</p><p>Mary was determined to find him a soulmate, if only to replace the heart that Janine stole from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stolen Heart

Sherlock had no heart.

It wasn’t his fault.

He just didn’t.

Well, maybe it _was_ his fault.

But it was only practical.

He’d paid a siren to steal it from him. She’d been beautiful and curvy and she’d spoken with an Irish accent that rolled like the waves over his skin. He hadn’t gotten her name at the time, but he’d been told it was Janine. She’d taken his heart and flitted away, and he’d been better for it.

Pirates who were soft-hearted, who helped children who cried over their pets; who gave to widowers perched outside the gallows, tears still fresh on their cheeks… Pirates like that didn’t make it long on the sea, and Sherlock had realized the logical advantages, then, of ridding himself of the heavy burden of love and all that came with it.

It had cost him a lot, but he’d earned a lot more. It cost him Lestrade’s confidence (apparently, joyously proclaiming that the greatest criminal mastermind in London was by far the most interesting person in the room did not go over well with a detective.) It lost him his brother’s trust (one too many nights indulging in heavy opiates and waking up in his brother’s office proved he was unreliable.)

Not everyone saw it that way.

Mary Watson, for example, thought he was a fool. And she told him so. Constantly. Her husband agreed. Her girlfriend, Irene Adler, also agreed.

They’d determined to find him a soulmate.

According to all their research, the only way to win back his heart from the siren was for him to be kissed by his one true love.

It all sounded like fairy tale rubbish to him, but Mary insisted that was just his heart being gone.

He’d made a list of what a soul mate would be like to him.

Someone confident.

Someone smart.

Someone vicious.

Someone passionate.

Someone who wouldn’t back down to him.

Someone who wouldn’t expect him to change.

Mary had whistled, her eyebrows high on her forehead. Irene had only quirked an eyebrow at him and nodded. John had insisted that this was an impossibly tall order. Absolutely no one would ever fill that, man nor woman, and Sherlock would have to settle for whichever kiss worked.

But Mary knew that no kiss would do but the one that fit his needs. Sherlock had always been difficult to get along with, even before he’d gotten rid of his heart. So Mary went to work.

One day, she came on the boat with a grin and laugh.

She’d found someone, she insisted.

Found someone in a morgue in London, cutting into cadavers. They’d insisted on working ethically, utilizing only bodies donated to the sciences to do their research. They wanted to work as a surgeon, eventually, but first they worked with the dead.

Mary had dragged them to Sherlock’s ship with an excited hop in her step, insisting that Sherlock would immediately hire them as ship Surgeon, if they were willing to also mend the sails.

Sherlock had rolled his eyes when he heard the commotion. He didn’t intend on dealing with things like True Loves Kiss or Fairy Tales before he headed out to find Moriarty’s stashed explosives. The impending wars guaranteed it would be a profitable investment. He just had to get there first.

Sherlock was standing at the Stern, watching the short haired mustachioed doctor march their way up the gangplank.

Mary had insisted that this doctor was to go by they/them pronouns and were only ever to be referred to as Hooper.

Sherlock straightened his back and glared down at the deck.

“Look here, are you aware why my Quarter Master has dragged you to this ship?” He called out. The stranger’s steps slowed, their brown eyes glaring up at him.

“Yeah, now get down here so I can kiss you and get it over with. I’m guaranteed the job regardless.” They shouted up at him. Their cheeks turned red, their lips puckering up into a frown. A pointed nose swung through the air, glaring behind them at Mary. “And she promised me I’d be safe here too, so if you try to hurt me, I will fight back.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. We need a Doctor, after all, and I’ve not a heart to be broken. I’ve no reason to hurt you.” He walked down the steps from the raised stern to the deck, arms held behind his back.

He didn’t have a chance to lean in to kiss Hooper.

Instead, they grabbed his collar and yanked him down, lips crashing against his.

He knew immediately that he would never live this kiss down.

His heart beat again for the first time in three years.

When he pulled away, his cheeks red and his eyes wide, Hooper was grinning at him.

“Nice to meet you, Sherlock.” Hooper held out their hand. “Apparently, we’re soul mates.”


End file.
